


Mother's Day

by out_there



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: M/M, POV Mycroft Holmes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-08
Updated: 2018-05-08
Packaged: 2019-05-04 05:01:03
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 333
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14585517
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/out_there/pseuds/out_there
Summary: Still, if not for Gregory, Mycroft would be at home relaxing. If not for Gregory's wide brown eyes, his soft frown when he said, “But it's Mother's Day. You'll at least call her, right?” If not for Gregory's gentle -- if inconvenient -- concern, Mycroft would not force himself to spend the afternoon with Mummy.





	Mother's Day

**Author's Note:**

  * For [bigblueboxat221b](https://archiveofourown.org/users/bigblueboxat221b/gifts).



> Prompt fic: bigblueboxat221b prompted "It’s almost Mother’s Day here. Greg prompts Mycroft to do something this year instead of avoiding it as he always does…"
> 
> Unbeta'd so all errors are mine.

Mycroft knows a dozen better ways he could spend a free Sunday afternoon. A roaring fire and a good book, a beloved film enjoyed over a glass of scotch, or a walk in the park, enjoying today's unseasonal sunshine. He could be curled up with Gregory right now, wasting the day in bed with slow kisses and skin on skin, and Mycroft stops that thought before it can go any further.

It's hardly an appropriate thought to have over afternoon tea at Claridges. The fact that he is sitting opposite his mother only makes it worse.

Not that Mummy notices anything amiss. She continues her tale of the new vicar settling into the village, taking dainty bites of her scone. Mycroft nods in the right place and asks about their plans for their next line-dancing holiday, helping himself to another cucumber sandwich.

By unspoken mutual agreement, they've both kept the conversation civil and polite, maintained the well-mannered distance of their version of a happy family. It's not a terrible afternoon. He can acknowledge that the food and decor are excellent, and even the other patrons aren't terribly rude or loud.

Still, if not for Gregory, Mycroft would be at home relaxing. If not for Gregory's wide brown eyes, his soft frown when he said, “But it's Mother's Day. You'll at least call her, right?” If not for Gregory's gentle -- if inconvenient -- concern, Mycroft would not force himself to spend the afternoon with Mummy.

His one consolation is the memory of Gregory's smile when he mentioned the reservation and invited Gregory to come. Gregory had looked so pleased. So proud. It's been a long time since Mycroft's made someone proud; people are usually relieved or satisfied by what he does, but they're rarely proud of his methods or the secrets he keeps. Yet Gregory had beamed at him and pulled him down into a smiling kiss.

And then had the gall to say, “I'd love to come but I'm rostered on. Maybe next year?”


End file.
